Beyond Words
by Forevermore000
Summary: Heather has woken up, and now she wishe's she hadn't. She's only found herself wound up in another mess. And this time she's not sure if there is a way out...


**This is my first attempt at a real Fan Fiction. Let alone a Silent Hill one. Please let me know what you think, and if I should continue it.   
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

A chilled breeze blew from the east, picking up loose dust and tossing it into the air for it to become tiny needles against the skin of a sprawled out figure.

_"Heather…"_

"Heather…wake up".

Heather opened her eyes, slowly but surely. A soft hazel color patterned on the outer edge of a large black pupil. Things seemed blurred for a moment; she couldn't even recognize what was in front of her. Until her eyes had decided to cooperate and focus her line of vision.

The first thing she noticed, were tall blades of grass and bundled up shrubs. And the second one being that she was laid sprawled out on a dirt path. Heather managed to work her arms underneath her chest, and pull her knee's up to her stomach. She timidly lifted her head up off the cold, unforgiving ground. Glad to be rid of a rather large rock that had been digging its way into her ribs.

Heather opened her mouth; she tried so hard to speak. But all that originated was a dry raspy-sounding voice from her throat. She felt like she was being denied of oxygen, unseen hands clasped tightly around her neck. Its nails making their way under her skin. She coughed loudly, mucus filling her mouth. She spat at the earth, noticing small specks of dirt in her phlegm.

"Where…where am I?" was all she managed to allow escape from her throat at that point. Almost immediately after her own words, she began to regret saying them in the first place. Because it was now that she realized, a familiar emotion began clawing away at her insides. It wouldn't stop, and it would never leave her at peace.

It was the feeling of being alone…  
An emotion Heather knew all too well.

She shook her head gently, taking in a few quiet breathes. Trembling slightly, she forced her arms to work. Steadying herself as she raised up one slender leg at a time. It seemed like hours before she was even capable of standing completely upward. A wave of relief rushed over her body, and with that relief also came the trigger to her senses. Someone had pulled it too far, leaving her with a wound in not only her head, but a dull ache inside of her heart.

Heather stared straight ahead, a small sigh leaking off of her lips. To be lost in the now gentle breeze, and carried away. Never to be heard of again. It wasn't the shrubbery, the tall stalks of corn, or the clearly polluted pond that deserved Heather's attention. Her gaze was drawn to a large brick building. Decorated with graffiti, broken glass windows, and the lingering smell of decayed flesh. The building seemed to hold its own aura about it, as if being in the very presence of it was supposed to make you feel absolutely terrified.

Her legs seemed to have a mind of their own, walking slowly, steadily down the path. Heather's boots creating a whirlwind of dust as she dragged her feet along. What struck her as odd, was the fact that the pathway had been lined with small torches jutting up from the earth. Each one lit delicately, and carefully. Looking as if it had been done five minutes ago. Though it was strange, it didn't seem to phase her the slightest bit.

She stopped short of the heavy-looking doors that served as an entrance to the building. Heather bit her bottom lip tightly, trying the best she could to swallow the fear rising in her. After all of this time, she still couldn't comprehend where she had been this entire time. It only put stress on her mind to even try and remember what had happened before this. Everything came up blank, as if something had locked part of her life away. And left it to die, rotting in an empty cell.

As Heather approached the large doors, she crossed her arms. Pressing them tightly into the soft material of her white vest. The doors had been slightly ajar, most likely due to weathering. The hinges screamed as the door swayed, piercing the silent night air and sending cold shivers down Heather's spine. She felt like screaming. She felt like crying. She felt that she had to do anything she could to try and make this all go away.

Gathering her remaining courage, Heather stepped quietly into the shadows of the structure. Enveloping her skinny frame in darkness. She knew she had to face reality sooner or later.

The reality being that she was alone in this.

And that no one could save her,  
Even if she cried.


End file.
